this world is not my home – i'm just passing through

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Love In The Time Of Diarrhea

Have you ever noticed this? Men are all cool and manly and tough, but when they get sick, they turn into a sad sulking boy who just want their mom to come and make them chicken soup.
When they’re sick, the whole world is against them and nothing can help that. And then we are needed.

The women.

Because when they’re too old (or too far away) for mom to come over, it’s the girlfriends job to provide them with tea and fruit and blueberry soup.

Wait, what? Yes, blueberry soup. Or actually: blåbärssoppa. Apparently, this is what the Swedes drink when they get sick.

But I won’t complain. Because in turn for those selfless acts of love and support and service (ahem), when this guy is feeling well I can call him to fix the water tank that just keeps overflowing, or have him drive me around town (I quote: “I’m overtaking the overtaker!!”). I was gonna write ‘and kill cockroaches for me’, but as a matter of fact, I have started to kill those myself. I have dedicated a special flip flop for this and will never wear those again. Or touch them, for that matter.

Anyway. Tomorrow I’m off to the village for a day, for (yes, really) translating. Seriously.

This is the first time my translation efforts will be of any importance, as all the times I have translated the “welcome to Pokhara, we will all clap our hands for you now so you feel welcome”, don’t count, no in fact this time my understanding of what people are saying will determine whether the building project will be successful.